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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25624954">A Second First Meeting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocket_infinity/pseuds/pocket_infinity'>pocket_infinity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Flame &amp; Frost, Heart &amp; Soul [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hollow Knight (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Dates, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Romance, gonna imply a one-night stand but never outright mention it, that's a lie grimm jokes about it, these boys are so gay together</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:29:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25624954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocket_infinity/pseuds/pocket_infinity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It might have only been a one night thing. Clearly just a one night thing. The Troupe had stayed for over twice as long as they normally would for other reasons. Romance could never be responsible for any of that at all, and even if it was, Grimm knew he would be a fool to ask the King out. Or at least he thought he knew, until he received a letter marked with the King's brand, a date, a time, a location, and a request.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Grimm/The Pale King (Hollow Knight)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Flame &amp; Frost, Heart &amp; Soul [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Second First Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this one is soft I promise</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Stop fussing, Master,” Brumm said as he fiddled with Grimm’s bowtie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, just let me do it,” Grimm replied, lifting his hands up only to be swatted away by Brumm’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There we go,” Brumm said, stepping away and glancing over Grimm. “You look handsome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm turned to his left to get a good look at the mirror they’d stood up against the dresser. “I don’t know… does a tux really suit me?” He asked, glancing at brumm as he adjusted his suit cuffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mrm. They look perfect for you, Master. The colors match your head perfectly with the red bowtie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They do, they do,” Grimm said, waving his hand and turning away. His head drifted towards the ceiling until his eyes locked onto one of the lanterns lighting the black and red tent. “Wait, wait, do we know how this will look under white lighting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grimm, stop worrying. You look amazing.” Brumm brushed his suit before glancing at the clock atop the dresser. “Now get going; you’re going to be late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can teleport, Brumm,” Grimm said, rolling his eyes. “We’ve got time to find some lumafly lanterns.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mrm. If you insist, Master,” Brumm said, marching out of the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Pale King snapped close the clasp at the neck of his outer robes, standing before a mirror and evaluating his clothing choice. “Hmm…” he mumbled, turning to face his wife, “dear, do you think this looks too formal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh not at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span>, darling. You look adorable—especially when you wear that clasp. The little face is just the cutest thing,” the White Lady said with a soft smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you again, my root,” the King said quietly, turning away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what, love?” She asked, using one of her roots to tilt his gaze back towards her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Letting me go out with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” She said ecstatically. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with this. You were more than fine with letting me go on a few dates with Dryya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I simply didn’t… I wasn’t sure. I’m sorry for taking two weeks to ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling,” she said, caressing his cheek, “you have nothing to apologize for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Pale King rubbed his eyes for a moment before looking back at her. “I love you, root.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, wyrm. Now,” she brushed his undersuit and robes for a moment, “you’ve got a dinner to get to. And don’t forget this:” she said, handing him a small letter—his reservation for two at arguably the best restaurant in the City of Tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he said, placing it into one of the seemingly infinite pockets within his robes—”Wait,” he said, turning to face her as he opened the door, “do you think I should bring a Kingsmould or two with me? Or is that too formal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe one of the knights?” His wife suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, that would be… awkward,” he said, glancing down. “And then I’d need to explain to him and it would just- you know what I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, dear; but I think you’ll be fine just on your own—oh, and don’t forget an umbrella. The last thing you’d want is for the inside of your crown to fill up with water and spill out during dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Pale King chuckled. “That would be- oh goodness, that would be unfortunate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes indeed it would,” the White Lady replied with a smile. “Here, I’ll see you to the castle gates.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it to make sure I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it’s to make sure you don’t forget the umbrella.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. Now let’s get you on your way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grimm appeared in a puff of red smoke right in the middle of a street within the City of Tears, providing quite a shock to all those around him—especially the nobles. He smiled at that thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So sorry, everyone,” he said with a slight bow before pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He looked up at the building to his right before unfolding and reading the paper. “The Weeping Cavern,” it read with an address listed below. An exact match for the sign above the restaurant. He walked over to it, taking a glance through the front window at all of the people sitting at their tables. Some looked back at him, narrowing their eyes or scowling when they did. He sighed and checked his watch. Two minutes early. He leaned himself up against the stone of the building, crossing his arms as he waited and letting hit mind latch on to the sound of rain pittering as it hit the street or sizzling away when it drew too close to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two minutes flew right by, and it was in no capacity difficult to see the king coming from all the way down the street. As if the abrupt and deferential parting of everyone who caught sight of him wasn’t enough, he seemed to have upped his brightness just a slight bit. And even that goes without mentioning the snow white of his robes that never dirtied even as he walked upon the ground as well as the intricate umbrella he carried with grey patterns swirling on its surface. A soft smile crossed his face as he grew closer to Grimm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” he said as he came within six feet of the Troupe Master.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Grimm replied, flourishing each individual finger in succession as a wave. “Your umbrella looks lovely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” The wyrm replied, blushing slightly. “Thank you. Rain can become a bit of a problem rather quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Grimm said, looking up for a moment, “I suppose it can. Lucky I’ve never had to worry about that.” He held a hand out towards the King. “Shall we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With pleasure,” the King said, taking his hand and letting Grimm lead him through the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Pale King closed his eyes for a moment with a soft sigh as they stepped into the restaurant. Warm, candle-lit tables and walls, quiet waiters and soft conversations, the subtle drift of music across the air. Grimm smiled at the scene as the wyrm closed his umbrella.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, let me,” Grimm said, offering his hand again to take the umbrella.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” the Pale King said, his hand vanishing beneath his robes as Grimm took the umbrella; the Troupe master quickly rotated it all the way around, letting his natural heat leave it perfectly dry by the time he placed it in the holder to his left. A young bug approached the host stand at the front of the restaurant as he heard the door softly click closed with the King’s touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hel-” he started so say before pulling in a (relatively) loud gasp and freezing. The rest of the restaurant quickly followed suit, turning to abrupt silence and stillness, not a single whisper of conversation or clink of silverware; even the music halted completely. The lone sound in the air was the soft flickering of the candles around the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Pale King cleared his throat. “Hello,” he said, his voice a mix of that familiar gentleness and royal assertiveness as he approached the stand. His left hand emerged from under the robes to extend a small, sealed letter to the boy; he took it speechlessly before shaking his head out of the daze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-so sorry, my liege.” He bowed deeply. “I’ll see you to your table, if you’d like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be appreciated,” the Pale King replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a single, deft motion, the host drew a letter opener and sliced it through the seem, removing the paper and placing the envelope under the stand without even looking as he turned to start walking. He barely would have even had time to glance at the paper before he moved, but he nonetheless moved with grace as he led the two along. He looked calm and composed as he stood beside their table—it was pristinely set for two and rested just beside the wind—but it took Grimm zero effort at all to sense the panicked and frenzied state of his mind; it would have taken effort to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> notice it, honestly. The host waited for a moment, glancing back as a waiter approached. When he arrived, the two of them pulled the chairs out in perfect synchronization before both of them motioned for the two gods to take a seat. Grimm’s tuxedo required no special treatment, but the King sat down in a manner very clearly well-practiced so that his outer robes would part but not reveal his arms. The two bugs stepped back to the unoccupied side of the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Vincent,” the host said quietly, everyone’s eyes still glued to Grimm and the King. “He will be your server tonight, and he’ll be more than happy to answer any questions you have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” the King said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” Grimm nodded. The host nodded back before turning and beginning to walk towards the stand just a bit more quickly than he had led them to the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” the King said to him at a normal volume, though in the environment it rang much louder, “I do have a question for you, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course, my liege, what do you need?” He asked, his hands visibly shaking as his heart rate spiked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is your name?” The Pale King asked softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Louis,” the boy said. “My name is Louis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a beautiful name,” the wyrm said with a slight smile. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded as a response and continued back to his stand before both gods turned to Vincent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As he said,” Vincent said, reaching into his suit and manifesting two menus, “I’ll be serving you tonight. “Could I get you anything to drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like some water,” the King said, looking at Vincent instead of his menu. “Preferably with ice, but it is quite alright to have regular water if there is no ice on hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m good, thanks,” Grimm said, opening his menu and glancing at Vincent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well,” he replied, turning and walking back towards the kitchen. The Pale King opened his menu and began to scan the options. Across the restaurant, one of the chefs leaned out of the kitchen and stared at the band until one of the members looked back, at which point she waved her hand furiously to get them to start up again. The smooth music seemed to snap the diners out of their trance as soft conversation and the clinking of silverware slowly filled the air again. Grimm took a pause from searching to look out at the gloomy beauty of the city beyond the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You picked a good restaurant, wyrm,” Grimm said, roughly matching the volume of the other diners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King looked up from his menu and smiled. “You think so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. It’s one of my favorites—been here since the start of the kingdom, actually. I come here often when I need to change scenery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And they’re still that shocked to see you?” Grimm replied, glancing back towards the restaurant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Often as in about once every thirty years,” the King replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm chuckled. “Of course,” he said with a smile. “So this place has managed to stay afloat for thousands of years, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed,” the King said, meeting Grimm’s gaze. “It’s got some great history to it. Funny thing: someone once accidentally let slip that they have a plaque in the back room for every time I’ve come here.”</span>
</p><p><span>“You’re </span><em><span>kidding</span></em><span>,” Grimm said.</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Nope,” the King said, chortling softly with a smile. Grimm couldn’t help but be enchanted by that adorable face and his gentle, graceful movements with every single word.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gods,” Grimm said with a chuckle before quieting down. “Out of curiosity, do you happen to know where the name came from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do, actually! It’s rather interesting; it’s actually the original name of this place, before it was called the City of Tears.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. In fact, this was the first building ever built here and even the first place my wife and I had dinner within our borders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A wyrm-endorsed restaurant, hmm?” The glow of Grimm’s eyes flared a bit at the statement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose you could say that yes,” the King said, blushing at the glow and turning away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Grimm asked, cocking his head at the Pale King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, nothing, it’s just—your eyes look lovely, is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So do you,” Grimm replied, leaning forward and letting his eyelids dip down with a hazy romance to their red glow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like you said earlier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, not your clothes or umbrella. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> look lovely, King. Your face, your body… beautiful,” Grimm leaned in closer, dropping to a whisper. “I would know, at least on the second front.” He pulled back, watching with immense satisfaction as the King’s blush deepened and he turned away from the inside of the restaurant, looking through the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grimm…” the King mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Troupe Master chuckled. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King blushed even more at the sentiment as he dug his face into his menu, letting the heat slowly cool as Grimm watched with a smile, his eyes glowing with a mischievous love. He glanced over his menu once more before closing it and setting down it on the table. The King gave it a few more minutes of looking before setting his menu down, as well. Vincent was quick to appear not a minute later, placing some </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> iced water in front of the Pale King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you decided on what you two might want?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll have the venison, done medium,” Grimm said, sliding his menu towards the waiter before flicking his eyes towards the King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We would have the Weeping Salad with no dressing and additional watermelon, please,” the Pale King said, closing his menu and holding it out to Vincent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, my liege. Sir,” he said, nodding to each of them individually as he took the menus before briskly walking towards the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The royal ‘we,’ huh?” Grimm asked as Vincent got out of earshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a fan of it either, but it’s just one of those things that comes with being a king.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm. I wonder: how do you put up with it, wyrm? Being a king for thousands of years, doesn’t it get tiring?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you think I spend so much time alone, Grimm?” The King asked softly and with a gentle smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how you stand that. Don’t you get lonely?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Often, yes,” the King said. “But I have my lady and, sometimes, my knights—and my workshop, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re an inventor?” Grimm asked, leaning in with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In a sense,” the wyrm said, taking a sip of his water. “More of a researcher.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Curious minds are always the greatest,” Grimm said, his eyes glowing. “I used to be like that, once…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should join me sometime. I’d love to have a partner,” the King replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Grimm smiled. “Sometime soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent emerged from the kitchen and quickly walked over to place their plates in front of the two gods. “Could I get you anything else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. You?” Grimm asked the Pale King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are also good, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent hastily nodded with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really hate the ‘we’,“ the Pale King said as Vincent left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you don’t need to worry about it with me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>my liege</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Grimm said dramatically as he cut his venison. The King closed his eyes and let out a soft breath as he smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have I ever told you how lovely your voice is?” He said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Grimm asked. “I’m usually told the opposite by most.” He took a bite of his venison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well most are wrong, then,” the wyrm responded as he took a bite of his salad. “Because your voice is something magnificent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Grimm said with his mouth full before swallowing. “Do you want to try this venison, by the way? It’s absolutely incredible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No thank you,” the Pale King said after finishing a bite of his salad. “I’m not a fan of animal products—meat, especially.” He poked another bite on his fork.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm smirked. “Really? I wouldn’t have known that you don’t like meat after our previous encounter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Pale King cocked his head for a moment before almost spitting out his salad at the comment. “Grimm,” he whisper-mumbled, “we are in public.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love this and you know it,” Grimm said, his eyes flaring red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Maybe,” the King said, his eyes flicking away for a moment before returning to Grimm. “Gods, your eyes are just… they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> beautiful when they glow like that, Grimm,” he whispered, setting his fork down on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your horns are magnificent, King,” Grimm replied, reaching to place his hand over the Pale King’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, Grimm…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Grimm asked, pulling back with a bit of concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I actually wear extensions…” the wyrm mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm had to clamp a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from full-on cackling. “That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>adorable</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said softly. The King dipped his head down as he blushed, and Grimm’s hand came back to the wyrm’s. “They really stay on through a rough time, then, don’t they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King went straight back to blushing. “Please stop,” he whispered halfheartedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Grimm said, taking another, this time bigger, bite of the venison. The Pale King smiled at him for a moment before skewering a piece of watermelon with some more salad. A few moments later, he pulled Grimm’s hand closer before lacing their fingers together and setting them back on the table. Grimm looked at the wyrm across the table, smiling at the slight blush he had with his head tilted down shyly. The candle between them only highlighted his magnificent robes, specifically their clasp, and lovely undersuit more—and Grimm could never forget that second pair of arms, no matter how hard the King tried to hide them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Pale King took a moment to look up at Grimm, keeping the silence as the two gazed into each other’s eyes. Those beautiful, sweet scarlet eyes. He glanced down again, looking at every single inch of Grimm’s beautiful tuxedo, including that lovely bowtie—especially that lovely bowtie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That bowtie looks incredible on you,” the Pale King said, smiling at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brumm said the same thing. That clasp of yours is almost half as adorable as you,” Grimm replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My lady said the same thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of them chuckled softly at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose both of our dressers know what looks good on us,” Grimm remarked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes they do…” the King said as he finished his salad. “Are you in the mood for dessert?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With you? Absolutely,” Grimm said, poking the last piece of his venison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think we should get?” The Pale King asked as he softly set his silverware down with hardly a clink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm…” Grimm said, dropping his with a much louder sound. “Let’s ask the waiter what they have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good,” the King said, finishing the last of his cold water. The two glanced towards the back of the restaurant only to find their waiter already approaching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you two like to enjoy anything else this evening?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we were actually wondering what desserts you have,” Grimm said, glancing at the Pale King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite a few, sir. We have freshly made fondue in several varieties, several types of mousse, many kinds of tart, macarons, and numerous kinds of cakes,” Vincent replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have red velvet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With vanilla frosting, if you would,” the King cut in, his tone only half formal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, my liege.” Vincent said, nodding for a moment before his eyes caught on to their united pair of hands. “A-and is that-” Vincent cleared his throat, “-is that on one plate or two?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two,” both of them said simultaneously, their eyes widening as their hands immediately split apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-of course,” Vincent stuttered out before swiftly turning and walking back towards the kitchen. Grimm chuckled lightly as the wyrm began to blush. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two slices of cake didn’t take long to come out, arriving at the table mere minutes after they had been ordered. Vincent bowed silently before stepping away for only a moment before the Pale King spoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vincent,” he said softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” The waiter said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you be so kind as to get the check for us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vincent’s eyes widened. “O-of course, my liege.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do they not expect you to pay-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They don’t expect me to pay,” the King said. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am the one paying for this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh are you, now?” Grimm asked playfully. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grimm, just let me do this,” the wyrm said softly, holding his hand back out, palm-up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Grimm begrudgingly replied before taking the King’s hand and turning his attention to the cake in front of him. “Shall we dig in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s,” the King replied, pulling a small bite away with his fork. Grimm took out a significantly larger amount on the first go before sticking the fork in his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm-!” The King said, covering his mouth and swallowing quickly. “Hot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Grimm asked as he finished his bite. “I thought it was rather cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did?” The King asked, setting his fork down. “It’s boiling hot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you know I’m warmer than fire,” Grimm replied, “but don’t worry. I’ve got a neat little trick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh do you now?” The King asked, leaning forward. “Do tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean…” Grimm said, getting the wyrm’s attention with his fork before gently poking it into the cake and pinching tighter. For a moment, it looked like nothing was happening; it didn’t take long at all, however, before the fork gained a red-hot glow to it, and the slice of cake—not just one part, but the whole thing—spiked in temperature before Grimm relaxed his fingers and the fork cooled down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fascinating,” the King said as Grimm popped a bite of it into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See! Perfect temperature,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want to see one of mine?” The Pale King asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely,” Grimm said, smiling. The Pale King smiled in turn as he picked up his fork and very softly poked it into the cake before frost began to form all along its surface, lasting only a moment before vanishing. The wyrm took a bite from his and ate it much more delicately than Grimm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfection,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and your clever tricks,” Grimm replied, his eyes glowing softly as he finished his cake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could say the same for you,” the King replied, finishing his slice a couple minutes after. The waiter wasn’t far behind, depositing the check at their table when they were finished. The Pale King pulled a check book out of one of his lower pockets before passing it to an upper hand, along with a pen. He pulled four checks from it, each of them pre-branded with the same seal printed into his chest, and, with pristine handwriting, wrote out each and every one of them with slightly different amounts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what the person who retrieves the dishes is called?” The King asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Busboy,” Grimm replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” the wyrm said with a smile. He flipped over three of the checks before writing “Louis,” “Vincent,” and “Busyboy (Apologies for not knowing your name)” on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s Louis?” Grimm asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The host who saw us in here,” the Pale King said casually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh that’s right; you asked for his name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” the King said, looking over the checks one more time before placing the book and pen back into his robes. “I think that’s all,” he said, Grimm rising slightly before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall we?” The Troupe Master asked, offering the King a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s,” he replied, taking it and letting Grimm take him to the door. He grabbed his umbrella at the door and popped it open as he stepped out into the street. The two were silent for a moment, listening to nothing but the sound of rain pattering on the ground and sizzling around Grimm, before the wyrm spoke:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods, Grimm, this date has been… it’s been one of the best nights of my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agreed. Every second I spent getting ready was worth it,” Grimm replied, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh you do not even want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> how long I spent getting dressed up for this,” the King said, squeezing Grimm’s hand. The Troupe Master squeezed back. He looked down at the little wyrm, who looked up at him, and the two simply stayed like that for a while, gazing at each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have I ever mentioned how wonderful your horns look?” The wyrm said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Grimm replied quietly, pausing for a moment before speaking again: “Well… I think I need to get back to my troupe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I to my lady,” the King said, his tone about is gloomy as the rain. “I wish tonight didn’t have to end.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So do I, wyrm,” Grimm said, holding his hand tight. “So do I. But we’ve both got matters to attend to that nobody else can do, so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” the King replied. “But Grimm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that you and your troupe are a traveling act and all, but… could you stay here? In Hallownest? At least for a bit of time,” the King pleaded with widened eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dear, sweet wyrm,” Grimm said. “We’ve already stayed overtime—” the King’s expression neared tears; “—what makes you think we’re going away now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King rested his head against Grimm’s torso for a moment, nearly crying—albeit for a much happier reason now. “You can expect another letter from me, if that’s alright with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It very much is,” Grimm said. “Unless I send you one first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King chuckled. “I love you, Grimm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too,” Grimm said, rubbing the side of the King’s head before shifting away. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, bowing with a snap and disappearing in a puff of red smoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Pale King smiled, blissfully ignorant of the dozens of eyes on him as he turned and walked back down the street towards his palace.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i love my boys ;-;<br/>this was 6.5 consecutive hours of writing</p></blockquote></div></div>
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